I lift the cross that hangs around his chest, turning it over in my palm. “Are you ever going to tell me the story of this thing?”
His eyes are closed, voice raspy when he responds. “Why do you think there’s a story? Maybe I’m just religious.”
“Isn’t wearing a rosary considered sacrilegious?”
I feel him shrug underneath me. “Fuck if I know.”
I snort out a laugh, my body shaking, and then I feel him twitch inside me.
“Fuck,” he says, flexing his hips.
I push myself up to a sitting position, my hands braced on his chest as I slide forward, lifting slowly until only the tip is inside. He crosses his arms behind his head, watching me with a steeled jaw.
“Tell me,” I say, taking him back inside me, sliding back down.
“Valeen says it’s protection.”
“Protection from what?” I press, leaning backward, resting my hands on his knees to give him a prime view of where we’re connected, my breasts on full display.
He shoves me off him, reaching toward Eros’ bunk again. He pulls the condom from his cock, tying it off before replacing it with a new one, and I bite my bottom lip to hide my victorious smile.
“Protection from nosy little girls who talk too fucking much,” he snaps. “Get on the bed.”
“Yes, sir.”
I FUCKED UP. TWICE, TECHNICALLY. I figured if I was going to make the mistake of fucking her, I might as well go all out. A man can only resist temptation for so long, especially when it’s being offered on a silver platter. She was fucking perfect, and for a while, I forgot about the curse. Forgot about all the reasons I shouldn’t encourage her feelings for me. Then, reality came crashing back into focus. I won’t even be here in a couple of years. Evan will probably be knocked up and married, and I’ll be six feet under. And for the first time in my life, the thought of dying made me feel…uncomfortable.
Evan sensed the shift in my mood, but I was saved from her questioning when Eros, Lathan, and Tres barged into a trailer that reeked of sex to find us naked, our clothes littering the floor. I pulled the blanket up to cover Evan, not bothering to hide my junk. It’s nothing they hadn’t seen before. Lathan and Eros kept their mouths shut while Tres stood there with a dopey grin on his face.
I stood, butt ass naked as Eros tossed me my jeans. With a jerk of my chin, they piled out of the trailer and waited for me outside. Evan looked up at me, cheeks red, glossy eyes, with a sleepy, embarrassed smile plastered to her pretty lips. “I’ll be back in a few,” I said, my voice sounded stilted even to my own ears. The smile fell from her face, and I could practically see the insecurity creeping in, so I bent over, pulling the corner of the blanket down to drop a kiss to her nipple. “Get some sleep.”
I stood and patted my back pocket for my pack of smokes before heading out to face the fucking firing squad.
“Did you tell her about Elliot yet?” Lathan asks, not bothering to lower his tone.
“Want to say that a little louder? I don’t think the next town overheard.”
“I’m gonna take that as a no,” Tres says before turning his back to us, whipping out his dick to take a piss in the dirt behind the trailer.
“I’ve got it handled,” I say. “Have you guys seen him lately?” After one of the Vixens pulled me aside to tell me that she thought she saw Elliot following Evan the night she got locked into the trailer, I’ve been keeping an extra close eye on him while keeping Evan away from him.
Eros combs a hand through his tangled hair. “Couple days ago, maybe?”
Tres turns back around, zipping up. “I saw him drive off the lot yesterday.”
“I think he’s lying about who he is.” I looked him up online. There’s nothing about Elliot Reeve anywhere. No article about the fire, no social media, nothing. I don’t know the first fucking thing about the internet, but I know something’s not adding up.
“Hard to say.” Lathan shrugs. “Everyone around here lies about their identity.”
“He’s hiding something,” I say, flicking the lighter, bringing a cigarette to my lips. “And I’m going to figure out what it is.”
I WALK ACROSS THE LOT, hoping to catch Sebastian alone at the bunkhouse. Jada showed up, letting me off face-painting duty early, and I wasn’t going to argue. I grabbed a funnel cake on my way because Sebastian said it was his favorite during one of my late-night interrogations.
I open the door quietly, wanting to surprise him, but when I see my music box on the table in front of him, I give myself up. “You found it,” I breathe, relieved. Sebastian jerks around, not having heard me, as I pluck the gold and green box off the table with my free hand.
“This is for you,” I say, slipping the plate of funnel cake onto the table. But then I freeze when my eyes fall onto what’s lying beside it. My heart stops, the music box crashing to the floor at my feet, shattering into tiny pieces. “Why do you have that?” My voice is barely a whisper. I’m unable to tear my eyes away from the Legacy Inn room key and envelope with numbers eight zero two written on the front.
“Evan…” Sebastian starts. I shake my head, backing away from him as the realization sets in. It was him. He was the one in my hotel room that night. He caused my dad’s fall. He stole from us. And then he lied to me. This whole time, he lied to me. “It wasn’t me.”
“Stay away from me, Sebastian.” My tone is resolute. I can forgive a lot of things, but this is not one of them.
“Evan, wait,” he says, reaching for me as I walk backward out the door, but I snatch my arm away.
“Don’t touch me.” My chin wobbles as my heart splinters in two. Sebastian’s face falls, his expression hurt, like he has any right, but then he schools his features, slipping back into the apathetic mask he wears so well.
“That’s some fucked-up shit,” Miles says, scrubbing a hand down his face. I didn’t know where else to go, so I came to his trailer, asking if I could hang here while he performed tonight. Miles is the only one I know with his own living quarters. He took one look at me, canceled his performance, and then called Kat.
I told them everything, not sparing any details from the day we first met up until now, while Miles poured us wine and Kat played with my hair as I lay on the couch with my head on her lap. My nose is red and congested from crying, and I know that if I looked in the mirror right now, my face would be splotchy, and my eyes would be bloodshot.
“What are you going to do?” Miles asks, handing me a second plastic cup full of cheap wine. I sit up, taking it from him.
“I can’t stay here,” I say sadly.
“Of course, you can. You can join the Vixens and stay with me. You don’t need Sebastian to stay here.”
“I don’t know.” It wouldn’t be the same. “I can’t even think right now,” I admit. My thoughts are still scrambling to catch up to what this means. I take a generous gulp of wine before setting it at my feet.
“Sleep here tonight,” Miles says. “Kat will stay, too.” Kat nods in agreement. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now.”
“I feel so stupid.” I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands.
Kat rubs my back. “Everyone’s stupid when it comes to love.”
“HE’S STILL OUTSIDE,” MILES SAYS as he comes back into his trailer, locking the latch behind him. Apparently, Sebastian’s been standing outside for God knows how long. After another glass of wine last night, I cried myself into a migraine and fell asleep.
“Maybe you should hear him out?” Kat suggests. I look at her like she’s grown three heads. “I’m just saying. Maybe there’s an explanation.”
I shake my head. There’s no acceptable explanation. How could I ever face my dad again if I continued to see Sebastian, knowing what he did?
“You’re going to have to face him sooner or later,” Miles informs me.
“I know.” We’re on our way to Omaha later today. Even if I wanted to go with Miles, all my stuff is inside Sebastian’s trailer.
<
br /> A few hours later, feeling like I’ve brought enough drama into their lives, I stand and thank them both. They hug me goodbye, and I know that even if the rest of the summer was a fail, I got two genuine friends out of the deal.
When I walk out of Miles’ trailer, Sebastian’s standing there, shoulders slouched with his hands in his front pockets. I hate how attractive he is, even when I want to throttle him. I walk past him without a word.
“Hear me out.”
I keep walking. The sadness I felt last night is evolving into something else. Something angry. But it’s better than sad, so I hold on to it.
“You’re acting like a brat,” Sebastian says, like he hasn’t betrayed me and hurt me in the worst way. I huff out a bitter laugh, but I still don’t respond.
When I get to where the trailer was parked, I stop short, looking around at the empty space.
“They already left,” Sebastian informs me. “You’re coming with me.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “If my stuff is already gone, I’m going to catch a ride with Miles,” I say, turning to walk in the direction we just came from.
“The fuck you are.”
“Ah, there he is.” I was wondering when the real Sebastian would come out.
“Evan, please,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically sincere. Sebastian doesn’t say please. “It wasn’t me. I was never at your hotel.” I stop and look at him, searching his eyes for the truth. “You can hate me all you want later. Just get in the truck.”
I don’t know what to believe. All I know is that I was falling for Sebastian—really falling for him, and now I wish I could turn those feelings off.
“Fine.”
Without another word, we walk to the pickup truck that hauls the trailer with the dirt bikes. I hop inside the passenger seat, laying my head against the window. I don’t even have my phone to serve as a distraction.
Sebastian runs a hand through his mussed-up hair before starting the engine.
“Ev—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Not yet.”
He grits his teeth, turning his eyes back on the road.
We drive for hours in silence. The sky has gone dark, and the only sound is of the rain pelting against the roof of the truck. I hear a loud pop that makes me jump, followed by the wobbly, uneven feeling that comes with having a flat tire.
“Fuck,” Sebastian hisses, looking in the side mirror. Luckily, it’s so late that there’s not much traffic, so he’s able to slow down and pull off to the side of the road without issue. The windshield wipers work overtime against the heavy falling rain. I blow out a breath, leaning my head against the back of the seat.
Sebastian throws the truck in park, walking out into the rain to assess the damage. He’s only gone for a second. “Completely shredded.”
Great.
He jumps back into the driver’s seat, digging his phone out of the middle console. He taps something out in a text message, then lifts his hips to shove his phone into his back pocket before reaching behind him to grab a black backpack.
“Saw a sign for a motel about a mile and a half down the road. I’ll get the truck towed to a shop in the morning. Let’s go.”
“In this?” I ask, incredulous. “Don’t you have roadside assistance or something?” Sebastian cuts his eyes at me, not bothering to answer. I huff out an annoyed breath, unbuckling my seatbelt before hopping out of the truck, slamming the door behind me. I stomp ahead, not waiting for Sebastian, as the rain pelts against my skin, drenching me instantly.
“You’re going the wrong way,” he shouts.
I do an about-face, walking in the right direction. I trudge along, arms crossed over my chest against the cold, my bottom lip trembling.
“Are you ready to be a grown-up yet?” Sebastian asks, falling into stride next to me, seeming completely unaffected by the rain.
“No, Sebastian, I’m not ready to be a grown-up if it means talking to you. I’m booking a flight home the second I can.”
“You’re just going to run away? Without hearing me out?”
I stop short, turning to face him. “You lied to me!” I shout, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Not only did you rob my family and hurt my father, but you lied about it. You let me trust you.” I hate my voice for cracking on the last sentence. “You made a fool of me.”
Sebastian’s hand finds the back of my head, gripping a handful of wet hair. He pulls me close, drops of rain hanging off his thick, black lashes making his green eyes look almost supernatural. The rain streaks down his face, hugging the hollows of his cheeks and sharp line of his jaw. Even soaking wet, he’s disturbingly beautiful. “I didn’t fucking do it, Evan,” he grits out. “I’ve been trying to tell you.”
I search his eyes for any sign of deception, finding none. And that’s the problem. I have no way to tell if he’s being honest, but how can I look at the evidence in front of me and believe him? I shake my head, peeling his hand from my hair, and turn away from him, walking in the direction of the hotel. I feel something warm land against my shoulders and realize Sebastian’s put his leather jacket over me. I don’t want to accept it, but the warmth it provides has me swallowing my pride, slipping my arms inside. The rest of the walk is spent in silence—the only sound is the rain hitting the asphalt.
Finally, we come up to a rusted, peeling, teal sign that reads Mystic Motel with a flashing vacancy sign underneath. I deflate at the dilapidated appearance, but anything is better than being out in the pouring rain. Sebastian walks ahead, opening the door. A lady with red hair and blue eye shadow greets us from behind the counter, peering at us over her reading glasses.
“Oh my,” she remarks, taking in our soaked appearance. She immediately starts tapping away on her computer. “Let’s get you a room,” she says before we even speak. “Earl! Grab some towels,” she tosses over her shoulder. An old man wearing a tan and red flannel and a baseball hat slowly makes his way out, tipping his head to us in greeting as he passes by.
“How many nights?” she asks.
“Just the one.” Sebastian’s tone is clipped.
“Our truck broke down about a mile back,” I explain, and she flashes me a sympathetic look.
“It’ll be eighty-eight sixty-four,” she informs us. “I’ll just need identification and a credit card.”
Sebastian digs out his wallet from his wet back pocket, shaking it off before opening it and handing them over. Earl comes back around, handing us both a towel. I thank him, wrapping the towel around me while Sebastian opts for running it through his inky, wet hair.
“Room sixteen. Out the door and to your right,” she explains, sliding a key across the counter—and I mean a real key—not a plastic card. This place is old school. “We have breakfast from six to nine right over there,” she says, pointing to a set of double doors.
“Thanks,” I say, snatching the key off the counter. I head for the door, Sebastian prowling after me. When I find our room, I put the key into the doorknob and twist, pushing the door open to reveal a small room with carpet that matches the sign outside, walls made of wood paneling, a dresser with an ancient television, and…one bed.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” I say, walking through the musty room, heading straight for the bathroom. I stop short when I remember I don’t have any clothes to change into.
Sebastian closes the door behind him, smirking at me like he knows what just occurred to me. Bending over to the heating unit next to the door, he turns the dial then peels off his wet shirt, placing it on top of the vent to dry. “Give me your clothes,” he says, his voice taunting. He thinks I’ll say no. His eyes dare me to do the opposite.
Looking him dead in the eye, I hold my chin high and walk toward him. He crosses his arms, giving me an impassive stare. Coming to a stop in front of him, I shrug his jacket off, dropping it at my feet. I curl my fingers around the hem of my wet gray T-shirt next, pulling it over my head. My nipples strain against the thin fabric of my bra and his
jaw ticks, but he still says nothing. I kick off my shoes and pop the button of my jeans next, peeling them off my legs. Goosebumps coat my skin, but my pride keeps me rooted to this spot.
Reaching behind me, I unhook my bra, letting it slide off my arms and fall to floor to join the rest of the pile. Sebastian’s nostrils flare, but his eyes don’t stray from mine. I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my white thong before pushing it down my legs. Fully naked, I stand before him, my wet hair dripping water down my breasts and stomach. Then I turn around, swaying my hips as I walk to the bathroom without a backward glance.
I flip the lock, heart pounding. I catch my reflection in the mirror, trying to see what he sees, but all I see is a lost girl, stripped bare, literally and figuratively. No makeup, no clothes, nothing left to hide behind. I take a frustrated swipe at the tiny shampoo and conditioner bottles on the sink, scooping them up, then step into the shower. I want so badly to take a steaming, hot bath, but there’s no way I’m lying down in this dingy tub. Twisting the faucet, I stand back, waiting for the water to get hot.
I lean against the cold tile wall, thinking back on Sebastian’s words. I want to believe him. If I don’t, that means everything has been a lie. Every single thing. Every single night spent in his bunk. How can I live with myself if I willingly fall for the man who’s responsible for my family’s downfall?
I slip under the stream of water and close my eyes, loving the way it burns my skin. I stand like this for long minutes before I finally cave and sit on the bathtub floor, resting my head on my knees, arms wrapped around my shins as the water pounds down onto my back. I suddenly feel tired. So fucking tired. Tired of pretending I don’t care when people fuck me over. Tired of acting like I don’t feel. Tired of this constant push and pull with Sebastian.
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